


Dizzy

by myriddin



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Cunnilingus, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 18:11:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7064632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myriddin/pseuds/myriddin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for valar_morekinks meme. Prompt from blueflowercrown: Jon x Sansa, Modern AU, Sansa drunkenly admits to never having a orgasm from a man, Jon offers to change that for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dizzy

When Sansa had thrown her legs over his lap and complained of pain from spending the day in tight, pinching high heels, Jon had been more than happy to slip off the offending shoes and begin rubbing her stocking feet. The little sighs and moans she let out as he worked were more than a little distracting, but the sudden announcement she made after three-fourths of a bottle of Lyseni white just about bowled him over.   
  
"Gods, you're good at that, Jon. I don't remember ever feeling this good...unless I'm doing the touching."  
  
Jon rapidly blinked, but to his credit, he kept up his ministrations, pressing his thumb hard against the arch of her foot and receiving a breathy whimper in return. He swallowed hard, wondering whether he dared to ask what they had meant, but Sansa took the decision out of his hands by continuing her tipsy monologue.   
  
"Did you know that Margaery's the only person I've dated who's ever given me an orgasm?" Jon's eyes bugged, but Sansa blithely continued. "Joff and I never got that far, thank the Seven, but Harry was such a selfish arse in bed. Willas tried, poor darling, but he had a better touch with his horses than women.” She sighed dramatically, her head lolling to the side to regard Jon morosely. “Oh, I was devastated when Marge and I decided we were better off as friends. There’s only so much a girl can do on her own."  
  
Jon just about swallowed his tongue before he found the means to speak, but boldness was easier to find when he wasn’t sober himself, courtesy of the strong cider Sam had brought back from his last trip to Oldtown. “I could do it,” he blurted out without preamble, “I could make you come.”  
  
To Jon’s relief, rather than laughing in his face, her eyes darkened with interest and she set her glass aside, crooking one finger in invitation. Jon lifted her legs and gently nudged them apart, creating enough space for his body to rest between them. “Are you sure?” he asked huskily.   
  
“Gods, yes.”  
  
They kissed and touched, grinding and rocking until his erection pressed insistently at his zipper and a slick wetness pooled between her thighs. His hand slipped between her legs, ghosting over the wet warmth of her want and he groaned, sliding down. He rubbed his fingers up and down the outer lips of her sex, coating his fingers before parting her labia and licking into her. He flattened his tongue against her clit and flicked in rhythm with the two fingers he firmly slid inside her.   
  
Sansa keened, arching into his touch until she was rocketing into her first climax, quickly followed by her second to leave her a shuddering, boneless mess Jon gently, tenderly worked down until she found her breath and sank back against the couch with a deep sigh.   
  
She watched through hooded eyes as he plucked a handful of tissue from the box on the coffee table, shoving his jeans down his hips until he had just enough access to give his aching cock a few short, perfunctory tugs, finding his release with a soft grunt.   
  
Despite her desire to take in the sight that was a half-dressed Jon Snow, she found herself near-dozing as Jon left the sofa to tidy up, whining with protest when he gently nudged her head up, holding a glass of water to her lips.   
  
“Drink up, lovely girl. Trust me when I say you’ll appreciate it in the morning.”  
  
Sansa obediently drained the glass and found herself lifted bridal-style by strong arms, carried in the direction of his bedroom. Nuzzling against his chest, Sansa sighed once more. “Stay the night, Jon. I want more orgasms in the morning.”  
  
Jon chuckled, dropping a kiss to her forehead. “Since we’re in my apartment, I suppose we can make that happen. Here’s hoping the water will be enough that you’ll actually want me in the morning and not just aspirin.”  
  
Sansa huffed softly as he settled her on the mattress. “Keep doing that trick with your tongue and I’ll always want you.”  
  
“Promises, promises.”  
  
As it did turn out, Sansa did want him in the morning. Once they got passed morning breath and queasy stomachs. Indeed, it took Sam pounding on the door to get Jon to take his head from between her thighs long enough for breakfast to be eaten, but that’s another story to be told.


End file.
